“My husband has taken ill recently. He’s not as young as he once was. He insists he’ll be okay, but he’s been sick for more than a week, and I have a bad feeling I can’t shake. I would sleep better if Silent Glass would take a look at him.”

Silent Glass Witnesses the End. my father. This was honestly a much easier request for me to fulfill than I was expecting. Nobody could reasonably expect a medical checkup from an immortal to be equivalent to 50 copper, but I was more than willing to do more than this for her.

“Of course! I can get him to look at Fisher for you. If he isn’t able to catch kerolu for you to sell then I won’t be able to get them at such a good price.”

Kerolu smiled in a way that made it clear she knew I wasn’t doing this for better fish prices. She thanked me and gave me directions to get to her home.

I made my way back home, coinpurse slightly heavier and carrying two fish worth of advanced payment. I made my way into the house proper once I arrived. Wherever I got my obsession with organization from, it wasn’t from my father. Books, scrolls, loose notes were on most available surfaces, along with a small quantity of dirty dishes from food eaten while working. I was once again relieved that he respected my personal boundaries which protected my small room and book shop. Perhaps I had stayed with my father into my twentieth year out of a duty to contain his pandemonium to the property, lest the entire town be absorbed in his academic maelstrom.

As I passed my gaze over our foyer, my eyes caught on one of the few organized piles of books.

There was always a pile of books my father was done with, whether he had finished the story if it was fiction, or taken all the notes he needed if nonfiction. The reason the book store had been set up in the first place was as a way to get rid of these unneeded tomes.

Today there was a new addition on the pile, happlessly placed on top in contrast to the rest of the books there that I straightened on occasion. It wasn’t like any book I’d ever seen before, which given my profession said something. The hard cover looked to be made of jade, green and glossy. The pages were gilded with gold. There was a symbol on the cover, a circle filled with layered arcs made of different materials, all curving around an oval at the bottom, made of silver with a crystal embedded in it. I don’t know gems well, but it was crystal clear, but at the edges it sparkled with more colors than I could count.

It was, by miles, the most expensive book I’d seen in my entire life, simply based on materials alone. Whatever knowledge it contained must be treasured as well to deserve such a container. I couldn’t resist, I picked it up and opened it, only to receive my biggest surprise yet. The entire book was written in Algivarian. To call it a dead language was a kindness. The species that created it was dead. All known examples were from archeological digs. At least, every example that I knew of until now. Where did Father find this?

The only mystery was how this book had arrived here, not why. Algivarian was my father’s primary area of study. He was almost certainly one of the top scholars in the language and culture. I had been raised with lessons on every known word in the language, theories on phonetics to hope to pronounce it correctly. I was not fluent, there simply wasn’t enough knowledge of the language for anyone to be fluent, but if I had this book growing up, I could have been close. Just glancing through it I found new words I hadn’t seen before, and usages of words that I’d previously only seen in one or two contexts. Within minutes I had confirmed some of my guessed definitions and disproven others. I was enthralled.

“It’s quite something isn’t it?”

“O-oh Father, I didn’t hear you.” Even though he’d surprised me, he only distracted me from the book for a moment.

Father chuckled, “Well trust me I wasn’t being quiet, you just aren’t here right now are you?”

“Mmhmm…” I absent-mindedly confirmed.

“Will you at least bring the food to the kitchen before you leave the planet?”

“Yes— wait, there’s something I needed to tell you.”

Father looked at me expectantly. I was startled when I remembered what it was, surprised that I had forgotten in the first place.

“Kerolu’s husband needs your help!”

Father arched an eyebrow, glancing at the fish I still had in a bag hanging from my shoulder. “The dead fish’s husband needs my services.”

I paused for a moment. “The kerolu Fishmonger’s husband needs your services.” I clarified.

He smiled. “I knew what you meant. What’s the problem?”

“She’s just worried about him. It’s probably nothing serious, but I felt like it wouldnt hurt, and she’s always been nice to me.” I paused for a moment “Plus she gave me these fish for it.” I added while gesturing to my bag.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Once again my Father was clearly amused. “Well who am I to turn down a free meal in return for a bit of labor?”

The answer, of course, was obvious. Even as a weak immortal he had powers nobody else in town could match. From his journeys he had funds that could cover thousands of meals. He knew this as well as I did, but most of the time he still tried to interact with the townspeople as if he was just an ordinary Healer.

Before long we set off to Kerolu’s house. Her directions turned out easy to follow. Most of the townspeople made the customary signs of respect to my father, although I don’t think he would have been particularly upset by all of them forgoing the small bows or practiced phrases. We arrived there within an hour of when I’d talked to Kerolu. She was there waiting for us.

“Greetings Silent Glass. You honor us with your presence.” She said, bowing deeply.

“Where’s the patient?” My Father asked, not unkindly.

Clearly intimidated, she guided us wordlessly through the house. I noticed that two boys were present. Clearly her children and visibly distressed. Whether by their Father’s illness or my Father’s presence I couldn’t be sure.

Past the entrance and the kitchen was her and her husband’s bedroom. He was laid out, and I could see discomfort on his face, which was also glistening with sweat, regardless of the coolness in the room.

He opened his eyes slightly, and when he registered who was in the room, he bolted upright, then gripped his head in pain as the blood in his head failed to rise up with the rest of him.

“Damn it, Mast. I told you I didn’t need help. It’s just the flu, I’ve had it a thousand times before.”

He clearly was out of sorts, as then a brief look of terror covered his face, before he did his best to bow to my Father while still in pain and mostly reclined. A look of contrition clear on his face.

“Many apologies, Silent Glass Witnesses the End. I forgot myself, I should not have acted so rudely in your presence.”

‘Mast’ was clearly the personal name he used for his wife, who I called Kerolu. To use a personal name in front of an immortal was often considered acting above one’s station, infringing on the right to true names that only immortals had. Me and my Father never had personal names for each other for this very reason, and perhaps the distance that had always stretched between us. It’s not like I knew many other immortals or their children to compare ourselves to.

Still, Father wasn’t one to hold a sick man to the expectations placed on the healthy. He didn’t make any comment on the mistake, but I noticed a frown on his face.

“It’s a good thing the Fishmonger brought me here when she did. You are not going to recover without my aid.” he said bluntly.

A shocked pause overcame the people present.

“Can you treat him?” Kerolu asked quietly.

“I’m not sure.” he admitted.

These words shocked me slightly. For all that the man was clearly ill, he didn’t seem on death’s door. Father glanced to Kerolu, and paused again.

“In fact, now that I’m looking, it seems my services are needed quite badly indeed. Something is spreading. I’ll need to get to work right away.”

He looked carefully at me last. He looked in my eyes, through my eyes. Whatever he found there relieved him.

“Thank the gods you’re still well. Daughter, run back home and get as many medicinal herbs as you can gather.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I left the house in a rush. I ran home as quickly as my rarely exercised legs could carry me. I was winded quickly, there was a heat in the air that hadn’t been there before. It was still a dry feeling so I wasn’t slowed down for long before I got to my garden.

It was hard to focus on gathering the herbs, a panic was setting deep inside me, not because I cared so deeply for Kerolu and her family, but because I remembered all too well the last time my father wasn’t certain he could cure a patient.

My Mother.

My father couldn’t directly see what was wrong with a patient, he could only see imminent demise. He had no magical ability to heal, simply to see the shape of what was killing others.

It was the second half of his true name. He witnessed the end. The end of anyone, of anything, but again, he wasn’t very powerful. By the time he could see the shape of my Mother’s death, it was already too late. I was young at the time, I don’t have many memories of what life was like before she died.

I knew it was better when she had been there.

I pulled myself together, grabbing a bit of every herb I had without killing the plants. I was rushing so I would perhaps need to be very attentive to these plants soon to make sure I hadn't taken too much.

In fact, I would definitely need to give them more attention. I noticed when I found the calpaz clearly wilted, almost dead already.

I looked around, and with dawning horror saw that all the plants looked severely under-watered. They almost seemed to get worse as I looked at them. I wanted to investigate, to water them all this instant, to nurture the life I had neglected, but I was needed elsewhere.

As I ran back towards town, the heat rose further, rapidly. It was getting to the point that it felt unnatural. I wasn’t sure I had ever been more thirsty in my life.

As I arrived in the town proper. I saw a man and woman that gave me pause. They were clearly immortals, dressed in fine silk and jewelry with symbols on all of it, clearly enchanted. The man’s eyes shined a bright blue. The air around him shimmered with heat, distorting as it rose away from him as though it was as afraid as I felt. I barely noticed the woman, other than to see her gray eyes and short cropped brown hair.

I bowed deeply as I could to the two of them as they passed me by. I couldn’t help catching my breath, and I knew I wasn’t as still as one was supposed to be. I felt the heat around me skyrocket. For a moment I felt I would pass out. Maybe even die right there on the street. All at once all the fear I had ever seen when people looked at my Father made sense. It felt at that instant that they hadn’t been afraid enough.

The heat fell back down to merely unbearable as I heard them continue walking past me. I stayed bowed until I couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. As I raised back up, I looked to see where they went and the fear all came back at once.

They were walking towards my home.